Skyrim, a Novelization
by Beytran70
Summary: An adaptation of the story of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim following set protagonist Brusa Broadheart, a generic Nord stand-in as the Dragonborn, as he navigates the perils of the Civil War political landscape and finds his way through the Dragonborn prophecy. Special attention will be given to detailing the game's world and history itself as well as the game's themes. Rated M.
1. Introduction

" **SKYRIM is a cold and harsh land with a heritage more ancient than even the Nords who call it home. Being the first province settled by Man, it stands as a testament to the indomitable will and spirit of those early migrants from Atmora. Some of the greatest legends of the mortal races come from this name alongside names like Ysgramor, Hsaarik Head, and the future god of Man, Talos. The last settlers arrived from Atmora some time during the First Era, though scattered reports were found into the Second.**

 **Now it is the Fourth Era and the races of Man and its great Empire are in grave peril. A costly war with the High Elven ALDMERI DOMINION has salted wounds not yet recovered after the Oblivion Crisis two hundred years prior with a fragile peace only reached with the signing of the WHITE-GOLD CONCORDAT, which, among other things, outlawed the worship of Talos, the patron god of Man and the Empire. The Nords of Skyrim, fiercely protective of their traditions, see this act as a betrayal and a strong movement of secession takes hold in Skyrim.**

 **Drawn to his ancestral homeland from Cyrodiil, BRUSA BROADHEART, a young Nord only just breaking his mid-twenties, finds himself swept up in a skirmish on the border of Skyrim, setting in motion a chain of events foretold by prophecy that may usher in the end of the world..."**

Hey there everyone! Been a while since I've posted anything, and I abandoned my last big project half way through, but I was struck with such inspiration for this latest idea that I figured I'd post it as I went along. The concept is fairly simple, a novelization of the main story of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim in the vein of movie adaptations or those belonging to some other games. I intend to omit most of the side quest or non-civil war faction material from the game save for what is required in the main story and will be going with a traditional and lore-friendly protagonist, that of Brusa Broadheart, a young blonde-haired Nord Warrior like the default in character customization. Special attention will be given to detailing the world of Skyrim itself as well as the various characters and conflicts since I feel they weren't given as great a depth as they could have been in-game. If I manage to complete the project I may even see if I can get it to Bethesda's hands to see if they like it, or move on and give the same treatment to Oblivion and Morrowind. Hope you all enjoy!

Beytran


	2. Prologue

There was a particularly harsh and icy blast of wind as the young, fur-clad Nord made his way over the last cresting ridge separating Cyrodiil and Skyrim. It was not yet past summer, and Bruma's side of the Jerall Mountains was not less cold, but the biting cold of Skyrim was something else even during milder times of year. Word from those in the northern land indicated a particularly rough fall and winter were ahead, the kind out of the old stories where the whole land seemed to freeze over and battling men were snapped shut in jaws of ice while still fighting. All the more reason, the man thought, to hurry up about his business in Skyrim and return home to somewhat more hospitable lands. A simple venture to deliver some legal documents for a family friend in Bruma with promise of enough coin as a reward, coupled with that gained by selling the family farm, to buy a set of weapons and armor as well as supplies to set out adventuring just like he had always dreamed. The path ahead was looking less and less kept, but there was still visible grass and vegetation in view. With the sun at his back, the journey wouldn't seem to be all that bad.

The thought would flee along with all ambient sound as the distinct snapping of fallen branches and the crunching of leaves echoed through the pass. Narrowing his eyes, the Nord reached for his handaxe, a simple iron weapon for the barest of self defense. These roads were kept safe from bandits but the mountains were always home to bears, wolves, and even trolls that were often bold enough to attack lone travellers like he was. As the man crossed over the next bit of raised terrain, an intersection of roads came into view as he passed fully into Skyrim. Paths from north, east, south, and west all converged here at a large stone marking the directions. Falkreath one way, Riften and Windhelm another. Whiterun straight ahead of the man, and Bruma behind. No sign of whatever made the disturbance, however. Just as the Nord went to put away his axe, he heard a husky breath from behind as well as the crunch of the ground under heavy feet. The presence was large and powerful, it must be a troll, he though. Gripping his weapon tight and mustering a loud warcry, he turned and went to attack.

Instead of finding the blade of his axe embedded in the flesh of a monstrous creature or at least finding one staring back at him, another man stood with the young traveller's wrist caught in a mighty grip and a low mumble let loose from a powerful voice. The man stood tall, taller than even the stout blonde Nord who himself was easily six foot one. Clad in fine black bear fur and leather coat with a simple but burnished chestplate underneath that had clearly seen the trials of war. This Warrior met the younger's gaze with a somewhat amused but tempered expression, and when his voice finally broke the silence it was as thunder crackling in the distance on a perfect day.

"I knew you southerners were jumpy, but I did not expect such a wild attack on account of a few broken tree limbs," the larger man said.

"The roads are not always entirely safe, even in the heart of Cyrodiil," the younger Nord replied, still shaken by the sudden change of pace and with a wrist rapidly becoming sore in the iron grip of the other.

"What did you take me for, then? A hungry beast looking to chew on a tender, lone morsel? A troll perhaps... or a bear?" With this, the stony expression on the man turned more friendly as a boisterous laugh echoed forth, though it did not last. As he released his grasp, the tension released enough for the traveller to notice now that many other men and women surrounded them in the woods. These warriors were all dressed similarly in simple fur armor and with mundane weapons. They all bore the mark of a runed bear.

"A troll, yes. Though it is wolves who hunt in packs." This drew a sharp look from the larger man as he snapped out of the brief stint of joviality.

"We are not hunting, young blood, but merely travelling just like you. As you say, though, the roads are no guarantee of safety. These are troubled times in Skyrim, stranger, and you would do well to keep up your guard. Not all you encounter will be so friendly, or so forgiving." It was then that the young Nord felt the unmistakable point of a dagger pressed against his side by the man's other hand. It was brought back and placed in its spot on the elder warrior's belt. He then began to walk off, the others following suit.

"If you are entering Skyrim come with us, but keep pace. Friendly travellers should stay together."

And so the Nord joined the strange band of blue wearing bears, enthralled by the commanding voice and presence of their leader. They travelled in silence and often alongside the road as opposed to on it, but the young warrior was used to hiking paths through the mountains and found it a welcome change of pace from the boring roads of the Imperial Province. Still, he could not help the feeling that there was some danger he was not aware of but his newfound companions were. In such large numbers, even a troll would pose no threat to them and giants did not venture this far south. What, then, could it be?

The answer would not take much longer to reveal itself. As the group approached one of the larger roads leading toward Whiterun, they spotted a lone wagon loaded with supplies and a dead owner laying beside an idle horse. Barely visible was a pale man skulking around the side, just about ready to unhitch the horse. As the warriors saw, they raised their voices and their weapons.

"Stop! Bandit!" they said.

"Murderer!"

"Horse thief!"

No reply came from the man, but just as the large Nord began to make his way down a series of horns blared in the distance. Replies came from all around, and before anyone could react a series of armed men approached from all sides. Some leapt atop rocks and aimed bows down while others formed a perimeter with swords. Still more swept in on horseback from the road ahead, swinging clubs and the blunt ends of weapons. Such a sight was the last thing the young blonde Nord saw before his consciousness was replaced with dark.


End file.
